Children of Death
by mishatippins
Summary: When Castiel is starting to have doubts about fatherhood, he gest advice from an unlikely source. Baised on In the Lethe by teaandchess


"I know, I know."

She had been stirring for the past hour, upset that her mother had gone out. Castiel didn't blame the child; he knew she needed her mother's comfort, perhaps more than what her father could give her.

Fatherhood was an odd thing to Castiel, but the way the child made him feel was astounding in all manners of the world.

He was in the tiny cabin he rebuilt, feeling strange at all the domesticity of the dwelling he called home the past few weeks.

"_Ol, pashs_," he whispered to her, silencing his disturbed, crying child with his quiet words. She always seemed liked it when he spoke in Enochian to her. "_Olani oai emna_. I will help you"

She silenced immediately, Castiel cradling her in one hand as he made his way out from her small nursery to the kitchenette.

"This way," he said to her, careful with his movements as he made his way out the hallway.

He almost made it to the cabinets when he felt a presence in the room. Drawing his sword, Castiel spun around, the child pressed closed to his chest awkwardly.

He was surprised to see Death in one of the love seats, the entity's eyes watching the angel as he kept the sword at bay, perhaps to stop from scaring the child.

"Well, I see how welcome I am here. Though I do admire that quick protectiveness, Castiel."

Castiel felt his child stir against his grip, the angel retracting his sword quickly before walking over to the pantry.

"A little birdie told me she'd been birthed."

"Why are you here?"

"To observe. And to be amused."

Castiel muttered something low as he adjusted to grab at the pantry. "There's nothing to amuse you here."

"Other than watching you try and play daddy."

"I'm not playing," he said sternly as he grabbed the cupboard open, fishing out the formula Meg had instructed him on feeding her and struggled to also grab a bottle from the drawer.

"Really? Because you look just like your father did."

Castiel froze, ignoring the sudden disappointed cry from his child. "Did you come here to insult me or for something important."

Death shrugged as he seemed to pull a greasy paper bag from no where. "I'd thought we'd chat. maybe have something to eat."

"I don't eat."

"Neither do I."

The angel sighed and headed towards the Horseman, sitting in the old lay-z-boy chair the served as his (or Meg's) usual feeding space for the child.

'Why are you here?"

"It's not for you, or the child. Or Meg. Morbid curiosity, Castiel. Even at my age I'm still allowed to have it," he watched as Castiel sat half cross-legged, feeding his daughter with practiced ease.

"You're a natural at that," Death remarked. "I've seen new parents struggle with that for weeks until they get it right."

"Jimmy Novak, my vessel, was a father," Castiel murmured, watching his child as she fed. "Dean also showed me how to care for her."

"I'm genuinely surprised. You should be proud of that," Death reached into his bag, bony hands dipping in. He watched as the child had her fill, yawned, and rolled against her father to sleep. "I heard you're fond of cheeseburgers?"

He accepted the sandwich, opening it with one hand, staring at it, and then putting it back down on the paper that he balanced on his knee. "I still don't know what I'm supposed to do with her."

"The child?"

"Fatherhood…isn't as hard or as easy as I expected."

"Perhaps all parents feel like that, Castiel."

"I am not 'all' parents."

The old entity had a look of understanding in his eye. He considered his Reapers his children (especially Tessa, though Death would never admit to playing favorites), and he had seen God's love poured out over all his creations; even the leviathan.

Perhaps Castiel was destined for this.

"May I?" the entity asked, motioning to the child. "You don't have to worry, Castiel. I wont harm her."

Castiel tensed at first, an instinctual reaction, but he relinquished hold on his child, eyeing the entity as she barely stirred in his arms.

"It's to be expected; a child comforted in the arms of Death," the Horseman said. "You still haven't named her."

"Meg is indecisive."

"Well," Death handed the child back to him, Castiel careful not to stir her awake as he stood from Cas's couch. "I guess I'll be on my way. Always way too many souls to take. And Castiel…

"I hope you do your child right, even after everything that has happened."

In an instant he vanished, Castiel cautiously lifting the burger from his lap and standing to bring the child back to where she rested. She made a noise as Castiel carried her, adjusting herself slightly as he lowered her into her crib.

He wondered about what Death said. How could he not show his daughter the up-most in care?

With a sigh he brushed his fingertips over the infant's head, listening to her noises she made when she dreamed.

"_Olani Gemeganza blans ol_," he whispered, still not knowing if she even understood his tongue. "Because I love you, _Pashs_."

She yawned again, before falling into a deep sleep. The only thing Castiel could do now was wait for Meg to return from her walk.

Teleporting into the living room he picked of the burger Death had given him, and waited.


End file.
